Culture Clashes
by Delora2047
Summary: When Earth enters space, some culture clashes are unavoidable. A series of ficlets dedicated to human-alien interaction.
1. Safety Integrity

_Disclaimer: 'The Adventures of the Galaxy Rangers' is copyrighted by Hearst Entertainment, Inc._

_This is a work of fanfiction and I make no profit of it._

* * *

The Andorean and human engineers seemed ready to come to blows. Niko tried to negotiate.

"Now I am no expert on nuclear fusion, but maybe you could tell me in simple words what your disagreement is about."

"It is quite simple," one of the human engineers said. "We are building a reactor and they…" He pointed accusingly at the Andoreans. "…are not installing proper safety measures."

"We are taking safety seriously," an Andorean scientist protested.

"You want to secure the core by putting up a 'Do not enter' sign!" the human engineer shouted.

"As opposed to humans, Andoreans can read."


	2. Wire Mules

_Disclaimer: 'The Adventures of the Galaxy Rangers' is copyrighted by Hearst Entertainment, Inc._

_This is a work of fanfiction and I make no profit of it._

_Author's note: German "Drahtesel" (wire mule) is an informal way of referring to a bicycle._

* * *

Niko and Doc, together with Ambassadors Waldo and Zozo, were on a scientific mission on Iowa-Constance, an agricultural earth colony.

The two rangers had spent the morning talking to local farmers and taking some soil samples. Waldo and Zozo joined them for lunch.

"We have just returned from our visit to the lake region," Zozo announced gleefully.

"Isn't that region famous for its scenery?" Niko inquired.

"It was great. They are growing all kinds of vegetables in that region," Zozo enthused.

"We saw their green houses, the irrigation of their cabbage fields, their orchards, their corn fields, how they grow kohlrabi and harvest their tomatoes ..."

Waldo seemed certainly less enthusiastic than his Kiwi friend.

"It was a diplomatic visit, Zozo. We had to visit those fields."

"Come on, Waldo, you are just disappointed that there were no mathematical diversions."

"I would have preferred it if they had chosen a more comfortable method of transportation. It was quite misleading when they told us we would be using wire-mules."

"Hey, it wasn't me who programmed the translation unit. They are speaking some strange German-English dialect here. Besides, wasn't it fun riding on those bicycles? It is almost like the tricycles we have for our kids on Kirwin. And this way, we could get a really good look at the fields."

"Bicycles?" Doc asked, surprised. "Do they have tracks for that here?"

"They certainly know how to build tracks of great length within a limited surface," Waldo admitted.

"And they have many signs," Zozo added.

"Yes. So many that without the global navigation system, we would have had trouble sticking to the right track out of 100 similar ones," Waldo complained.

"Just what didn't you like about it, Waldo?"

"It was undignified."

"Why don't you sit all down and enjoy your lunch?" Niko tried to soothe them.

Waldo looked uncomfortable. "I would rather stand after the long journey."

Zozo smirked. "He just thinks that would be undignified for him at the moment as well."


	3. Perceptions of Time

_Disclaimer: 'The Adventures of the Galaxy Rangers' is copyrighted by Hearst Entertainment, Inc._

_This is a work of fanfiction, and I make no profit of it._

Rating: K+

Summary: Perceptions of time differ across the galaxy. (Repost from 2003)

* * *

40 degrees of Celsius (104 degrees of Fahrenheit) in the shadow – and that was inside the shabbiest bar this small desert asteroid could boast. For the umpteenth time, Zachary wiped the sweat drops from his forehead, careful not to lift his hat so as not to betray his disguise as a Zermalian trader.

He wished their informant could have chosen cooler place to hand them the information he had gathered about a new smugglers alliance in the Empty Zone – or that he could at least have been punctual.

Niko adjusted her collar surreptitiously; he could see that the heat was getting to her as well. Doc had been complaining about their meeting spot since they arrived, and Zach wondered whether it was a good or a bad sign that his ironic remarks were getting fewer.

They were sitting at a table that was far too small to allow even two Kiwis enough room for comfort, let alone three Galaxy Rangers pretending to be engaged in negotiations about whatever it was that Zermalians dealt in.

"Zach," Niko whispered, "the waiter is getting impatient. We had better order some more drinks before he throws us out."

Doc eyed the large purple lizard-like alien who was watching the room from a corner curiously.

"You're sure that it's a him?"

Niko shrugged though it was hardly visible under the threefold brown poncho she was clothed in.

"Kre'l-lens change gender every five weeks, but I think his crest is typical for males."

Zachary realized with some disturbance that he would have considered a discussion about the biology of Kre'-whatever fascinating as compared to the monotonous hum of the ineffective fan above their heads and wiped the sweat from his forehead again. When was winter going to start on this world?

They had been waiting for three hours and nothing remotely resembling their informant had entered this baking oven where the only entertainment were the flies buzzing around them.

Doc emptied the last drops of liquid from his glass with exaggerated bravery.

"I fear it's my turn to order some more of this delicious fruit juice. Do you think the acid is enough to kill the bacteria, or should I boil it first?"

"I believe I have some more chlorine disinfecting pills left," Niko commented and started to rummage in the pockets of her threefold black coat.

"Maybe he has been delayed?" Doc mused.

"Unlikely. We received a confirmation for this meeting shortly beforehand."

And the only excuse I will accept if he doesn't show up soon is if he has been killed, Zachary added silently.

"Or maybe his species changes their calendar system every five weeks?" Doc continued his musings.

Zachary realized that he was actually considering this possibility and decided that he had had far too much of the chemical solution that was sold as lemonade here.

"Could that be the case, Niko?"

"I don't know of any species that regularly changes their calendar system, and besides, his species is known for their almost obsessive punctuality –" She caught herself in mid-sentence.

"Remember that we were three minutes late ourselves?"

* * *

Some sectors away an anonymous informant was struggling valiantly but futilely against the Crown Troopers who were holding him immobile in an icy interrogation chamber.

"I've told you everything I know," he screamed. "Why don't you just let me go?!?"

The laughter of the slaver lord who was watching the ineffective display of resistance was chilling.

"We're still waiting for the Galaxy Rangers."

* * *

Back on Earth, in a well-aired, sun-lit office: "Why again did it take you so long to rescue our informant?" Commander Walsh asked the assembled rangers impatiently.


	4. Pumpkin Joys

_Disclaimer: 'The Adventures of the Galaxy Rangers' is copyrighted by Hearst Entertainment, Inc._

_This is a work of fanfiction and I make no profit of it._

* * *

Zachary had an ill foreboding when the mayor of the small Granna village called him at 2 am. He hastened to the town hall to see what disaster had struck; he feared a Crown invasion, or another scarecrow walking freely, or maybe Goose reenacting the tomato incident from Floko with live ammo…

When Zachary entered the mayor's office, he saw that Zozo was furiously defending his nephews against an angry farmer while Goose was trying very hard not to burst out laughing and the mayor looked as though he could not imagine anything he would rather do than leave the matter to the Galaxy Rangers – or Zachary, to be precise.

"What happened," Zachary demanded.

"They destroyed my harvest!" the farmer cried, pointing accusingly at the three Kiwi kids.

"Building towers out of pumpkins is a traditional Kiwi art!" Zozo retorted.

"They used up all my pumpkins!!!" The farmer looked redder than a ripe Floko tomato and ready to explode. Zachery prepared to restrain him if need be.

Zozo glared back and, interposing himself between the angry farmer and the Kiwi kids, held up a piece of paper.

"You're the one who showed them the picture of the Eiffel Tower, Mr. Evans!!!"

Goose burst out laughing.

"The pumpkins have been bruised! I can't sell them any more!" Evans shouted, indignant.

"Kiwi pumpkins wouldn't have bruised!" Zozo shouted back.

"Why don't you make chutney from them?" Goose suggested in-between two laughing fits.

"BETA will reimburse you," Zachary announced sternly.

"Well, I guess then the matter is settled," the mayor said. "Let's go back to bed."

Everyone seemed to calm down.

"Do you want me to transport the pumpkins to your ship, or shall I pack them onto the next cargo freighter headed for Earth?" Evans asked businesslike.

Zachary had a sudden ill foreboding what the BETA canteen would be serving for the next year.


End file.
